Hurry Up and Wait: Untold Stories of the ER
He had a half inch cut on his finger… it wasn’t even bleeding that bad and certainly didn’t warrant the barrage of “Grey’s Anatomy” style nurses snatching him up and herding him towards the coveted double doors. I sat watching him like a hawk from the minute he walked in to the minute he was treated like he had just come in from an unfortunate machete accident. He wasn’t questioned. He wasn’t drilled. He wasn’t made to feel as invisible as his illness. As I watched him disappear down the hallway I couldn’t help but feel like I had just been slapped in the face…by medical personnel….again.
As usual, I have gotten ahead of myself, so allow me to back up and start from the beginning…ok maybe not the very beginning, that would take a small lifetime to write…but the beginning of my downward spiral of health. New and strange ailments aren’t new to us. As sufferers of chronic illnesses, they pop up unannounced and most certainly uninvited all the time. At first it freaks us out, but then we just learn to roll with the punches and just add it to the “discussion list” we take to our doctor’s appointment. That’s the way I felt when I started noticing a pronounced shortness of breath. It concerned me at first because, well, I’m Helga, Fitness Trainer of the Universe and I just knew my heart and lungs were so pristine they gleamed like a diamond. *I hope you’re getting the blatant sarcasm here* How could this be happening to me? Simple…it wasn’t. Deny deny deny…it’s a mantra that quite honestly could be tattooed on my forehead. Somehow I forced myself into believing that it wasn’t something to overreact to and as most other symptoms, would go away with time. Mistake #1
Not only was I ignoring the elephant in the room…I was ignoring the elephant that clomped right over and sat down on my chest like a trained circus pachyderm with a grudge. I went about my daily activities huffing and puffing and looking at stairs as if they were the tool of the devil. I was even able to ignore it as I climbed on my trusty treadmill and then proceeded to drape myself over it like a wet noodle only 30 seconds later. I wasn’t, however, able to ignore it when I began coughing up the familiar metallic taste of my own blood. Folks, it’s easy to ignore something you can’t see, but it is a whole different enchilada entirely to try to ignore something coming from your lungs that under no circumstances should be coming from such places. It was time to call in a professional…..yes, the internet! I am the queen of self-diagnosis and this time was no different. Upon ruling out tuberculosis and whooping cough (pretty much sure those infant vaccines took care of that) I promptly convinced myself that I had a minor cold and said symptoms would relieve themselves in a few short days. Mistake #2
Of course the symptoms did go away. I knew they would. If your car makes a clickety-clack sound as you press the gas pedal, you can ignore it until you are so used to it that you don’t hear it anymore, but that doesn’t mean it’s gone. It means that you are so good at this game called denial that you don’t realize it never left. So, I continued on…working, mothering, traveling, cleaning, working, did I mention working? I pushed forward until Lupus had finally had enough and pushed back hard enough to knock me flat on my butt. The symptoms were back and this time they were taking no prisoners. Even I couldn’t deny that something was seriously wrong and it was time to do something about it.
Bear with me here, we are steadily moving along with the tale of the stubborn Spoonie. Finally, I called my Rheumatologist and true to Murphy’s Law, she was out of town for 4 days. However, her assistant had used her super-duper secret phone number and per her instructions I was to go directly to the emergency room…do not pass GO, do not collect $200. There was only one slight problem…I was home alone with my 3 children. I don’t know about you all, but I would rather have hot pokers shoved into my eyeballs than to sit with 2 cranky pre-teens and an over-sugared 3 year old in the waiting room of the hospital. So, I did what any normal girl in denial would do….I didn’t go. Mistake #3
It’s around this time that word had spread about what was going on and I was getting hit left and right with tweets, facebook messages, calls and texts from friends and family telling me in no uncertain terms that they were threatening bodily harm unless I complied with doctor’s orders. (Christine- The spoon lady herself called, txted, yelled and more!) With a shake of the head, I took their advice in stride and went straight….to work. Yep, as you all know, my company would lose all its profit margin and wither miserably into an imploded mess without my presence. *again…sarcasm* Asking my boss if he wanted a soda from the break room proved to be my undoing. He watched as I stumbled up three steps, huffed like a 90 year old chain smoker, stumbled back down, handed him his can and fell against the wall sounding like I was about four seconds away from total collapse. It wasn’t long before, amongst threats of termination, I was in my car on the way to the hospital.
Let me stop here and say I was totally duped in the first 10 minutes of walking into the emergency room. Imagine my surprise when I was immediately checked in with chest pain and respiratory problems and didn’t have time to so much as go to the little Spoonie’s room before I was called to triage. I was thinking to myself, “Hey, Self…this isn’t so bad, for once you are being taken seriously.” Unfortunately it was around this time that I came face to face with Nurse CrankyPants. Nurse CrankyPants asked me what was going on and then stared blankly at me as if all he was hearing was the “wa-wa-wa-wa-wa” of Charlie Brown’s teacher. My pleasant hospital experience had just taken a not so pleasant turn. After rolling his eyes at my answer of “10” to his “So how is your pain on a scale from 1 to 10” question, he slapped on the blood pressure cuff and began typing away on his computer. It was no shock to me when my blood pressure came back elevated. Between my procrastination and Nurse CrankyPants’s Kevorkian bedside manner, I could feel it rising by the minute. Still, I was encouraged by an immediate EKG and chest xray. I just assumed that I was being taken seriously. Mistake # 4
So this brings us back to paragraph one, and back to my story (see, I told you we’d eventually get back here). I will spare you all the four letter details as I sat in the waiting room for 9 hours. Yes, you read that right….9 hours. I can’t even tell you what goes through a sick person’s head in the time span of 9 hours, however, you can pretty much bet that none of it carried less than 20 to life. One by one, the waiting room filled with bodies until people were lying all over the floor and the room suddenly looked like a refugee camp of the sick. I was tired. I was sleepy. I was in pain. But most of all I was mad. I was mad at being dismissed as a “non-life threatening emergency”, at being left to cry alone with my own pain, at knowing that because I didn’t outwardly look sick, I wasn’t being taken seriously, but most of all because skater boy with the trendy Bieber haircut and a small cut on his finger got a line cut pass. That didn’t sit well with me…and trust me; I had been sitting long enough to know the difference. With smoke coming out of my ears and an inferno of fire igniting my hair, I marched over to Nurse CrankyPants and demanded to see the doctor. Apparently there is such a thing as “crazy eyes” because within 15 minutes my name was called and I was being led through the double doors that I had watched enviously for 9 hours. This was it…I knew was going to be treated, fixed and sent on my way before midnight. Mistake # 5.
I became either a human pincushion or a medical intern science project as four different nurses tried six different times to correctly insert my IV. I had been prodded so many times that I was ready to snatch the needle out of their hands and find the vein myself. Right before my sneak attack, one of them found success and I was ready for the remaining tests. For what, you ask? Pulmonary Embolism or Deep Vein Thrombosis. Nothing like scaring the bejeezus out of you while you’re entire backside is flapping in the breeze because of a highly unflattering hospital gown. I endured an ultrasound, dye-infused CT scan, and another EKG, all of which I was pushed bed first down the hallway by Mario Andretti, the hospital navigator. At this point it wasn’t looking good for making out it of the hospital with all limbs intact.
Nine hours later (yes, again, 9 additional hours), I was awoken by Nurse Whats-his-name to tell me that thankfully, I was not having a Pulmonary Embolism. This was rather good news, considering I would have probably dropped dead in the hallway by now if it had been one. However, I finally had a diagnosis – Pleurisy. I had tears in my eyes…at last, there was physical evidence of my symptoms being real…symptoms that no medical personnel could deny or tell me were in my head. Well, that is until he followed it up with, “Of course you may be in a Lupus flare, but we can’t prove that.” If I had a bedpan, I would have thrown it at him. I just couldn’t escape it no matter what the situation.
By 6am the next morning I was discharged after an intravenous shot of steroids that had me feeling like my hair was on fire and my entire lower half had spontaneously combusted. I was handed a prescription for more steroids (yeah, like I didn’t already have an arsenal of those at home) and strict instructions to call my Rheumatologist. I started laughing at how things always seem to come full circle. Calling my Rheumatologist is what started this fiasco. It only seemed fitting that it was the way to end it, too. It’s four days later and I feel as bad, if not worse than I did the minute I walked into the hospital. This Pleurisy thing is no joke and some day I hope to be able to take a deep breath and tase Frank the Elephant off of my chest and back in the zoo where he belongs. Do I regret going to and staying at the emergency room? No. Would I voluntarily do it again? Hell no. My experience once again showed me the amazing ignorance that is out there with medical personnel regarding invisible illnesses. We seek out help with our head down and eyes averted…knowing that chances are, we will be written off as a hypochondriac. Unfortunately what people can’t see…they don’t understand….and if they don’t understand it, then they ignore it.
Denial. Apparently it’s a two way street.
Article written by Senior Editor, Stephanie Kennedy.
Stephanie lives in Fayetteville, NC with her husband and 3 always hyperactive and occasionally adorable children. She was diagnosed with SLE in 2001 at the age of 27 and in the time since, has added Scleroderma, Hashimoto and Celiac disease. In her day-to-day life she is a Community Relations Specialist (aka, marketing and creative hodgepodge facilitator) and a part-time blogging snarkzilla. She can always be found somewhere in social media-land causing some sort of trouble. Find her on twitter at @steph_in_nc or on facebook at Stephanie Welborn Kennedy.-
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